


without you (i have not lived a day)

by sweaterlou



Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Established Relationship, Love Confessions, M/M, Pet Names, lots of gross lovey dove stuff, needy rick and daryl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 15:15:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2737367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweaterlou/pseuds/sweaterlou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl's been gone for three days, five hours and 10 minutes. And yes, Rick has been counting.</p>
<p>or the fic where daryl goes missing and rick falls apart</p>
            </blockquote>





	without you (i have not lived a day)

Daryl's been gone for three days, five hours and 10 minutes. And yes, Rick has been counting.

Has been because he's scared shitless, worse than when Carl got shot by Otis. Traces of Daryl's parting words run around his brain, "Just gettin' some freshwater, Rick. Don't get all wound up and worried. I'll be back in two hours," and he had kissed Rick softly, fingers running over the makeshift rings hanging together around Rick's neck. A promise that he would be safe.

Unless the man had traveled all the way to the glaciers of Antarctica for the world's freshest water, then there is no goddamn reason he should be gone this long. 

The group notices the anxiety burrowed in Rick's brow, some silently watching him from their chores and others trying to console him with half assed hope.

"He's probably just trailing a deer, you know how he gets with his hunting." Dale says over the hum of the engine under his hands, wrench and elbow grease going all day.   
Rick looks up from the map laid out on the picnic table and tries to smile, he really does, but he can't when he knows that Daryl's crossbow still sits by their tent where he left it three days ago.

He circles around the farm at exactly 6pm, like he does everyday, and Shane's with him and actually being fucking nice and the pit of worry grows deeper in his stomach because that means Shane's trying to cheer him up, knows something is wrong.  
"After everything, ya know? After the cure, and the death, and this horrible dream, I'm taking you out for a drink man." he chuckles, hooking his arm around Rick's shoulders like they're best friends again, and honestly if Rick wasn't so tired, he'd punch the motherfucker right in the nose.   
But instead, he lets out an airy laugh and nods his head, even though he knows Shane will never get the chance to buy him a drink because Rick doesn't drink with wife fuckers.

God, even Carl tries to get Rick to smile, to laugh, to show some emotion but worry, scared, lost.   
He cracks jokes, makes fun of the others, does silly things that used to make his father grin but nothing seems to go through the gray cloud hanging over his tired face.   
Rick overhears him and Laurie talking after dinner and he can't help but feel his throat clench and his eyes water when he hears what his boy, his little boy, say.  
"Why does dad care more about Daryl, than me?"  
He wants to sob and shake Carl's small shoulders and scream in his face, "I do care, I love you, but I am only half the man I should be when he's not here."  
Instead, he reads to Carl for the first time since the outbreak and just to see his smile makes his heart break just a bit less.

When he finally goes to bed, the space next to him cold for the fourth night in a row, he lets himself cry as loudly as he can, not caring if everyone and their dead mothers can hear him, because he's fucking broken and all he can whisper is, "Don't take him from me too. God, not him."  
He wonders if anybody is listening.

∆∆

Nobody looks Rick in the eye the next morning. And he's grateful, because all they would see would be a pathetic man. 

∆∆

Glenn is the first one to see him.

He's on watch, surveying the outskirts of the woods from atop the RV, and at first he thinks its a walker. He pulls out his binoculars and looks through them, barely able to get a clear look at the thing.

And he's ready to shoot it because he doesn't want to endanger his family or take any chances, but when he raises to look through the scope.. he sees it waving.

Waving a rifle. 

"Holy fuck," he whispers to himself, dropping the gun and rushing over to the ladder. "Daryl!"

He shouts the name louder and louder as he runs to the farm house, small legs carrying him as fast as he can. He bangs through the screen door loudly, still yelling.

T-Dog and Dale round in from the living room, eyes wide as Glenn yells, "Daryl's in the field!" They don't question him, just follow him out the door in a sprint.

∆∆

Rick's sleeping, for once. His eyes were tired and raw from constantly being scrubbed at and no one had protested when he put Andrea in charge and had gone into his tent to sleep.

So, when hands are suddenly shaking him awake, he's not in the best of moods.

The small hands shaking him tell him who it is before he even opens his eyes. 

"Fuck off, Laurie, tryna sleep.." he mumbles, stuffing his face into the pillow. He tries to tone her out, but then there's his name, her voice desperate and urgent. His head snaps up and he stares at the tears streaming down her face and her shallow breaths and all he can read is, "Daryl's alive."

He's out of bed before she can close her mouth again. 

He rips through the opening of the tent, not caring if he's in his boxers or if a few shards of the broken beer bottle by the RV dig deep into his feet because suddenly he's alive, and so is Daryl and holy fuck, there he is. About fifty feet out in the field, overs over T and Dale's shoulders, walking with a limp in his left leg. He's a bloody mess and Rick's anxiety spikes, praying to god, please don't let him be bit, but for now pushes away the bad thoughts and runs. 

His legs burn and he can't breath but just to see Daryl's breath hitch and mouth spread into a grin when he sees him running towards him, well, it's worth it.

T-Dog and Dale take notice and slowly let Daryl off their shoulders, making sure he can stand on his own, and leaves room for Rick.

And Rick feels like he's running in slow motion, like he'll never get there. He's crying, almost sobbing and he's screaming out "Daryl!" as many times as it takes for him to get to his partner. He feels the rings bounce up and down on his chest and he cries even harder.

He slows down a fraction when he's ten feet away from Daryl, doesn't want to hurt him and knock him down, but then Daryl is hobbling forward to meet him and Rick doesn't give another thought when he runs into him. 

His grip is tight in Daryl's sweat soaked shirt because he would never let him fall, not ever. 

He hears the others run up behind him, feet pounding in the soil, but all he pays attention to is the sound of Daryl breathing and the feeling of their bodies fitting together. 

He hears Daryl's voice shake when he breaths against his neck, "I thought I was a goner, I thought I was never going to see you again." and he feels heavy tears drip down his neck. He brings Daryl in closer to him, if that's possible, and covers him away from the world because anything that ever made Daryl Dixon cry, didn't deserve him. 

"I love you. I love you, I fucking love you. God, I love you baby, don't scare me like that ever again, don't kill me like that." is all he says, over and over again as he holds Daryl up, kissing the top of his shaggy head over and over again. They stand like that for a while, until the sun starts to go down and no one takes a step away. They don't speak, don't interrupt the two, don't make a sound.

They just appreciate their family.

∆∆

"Fell into a ditch." is what Daryl tells them, laid up on Hershel's bed cot. His breathing hitches as the needle stitches his left calf, but Rick is there and squeezes his hand. His breathing goes back to normal. 

"Here, drink this baby." Rick says as he tilts the glass of water up to Daryl's lips, "four days without food or water and you're still the toughest son of a bitch I know."

He smiles fondly as Daryl sips at the water and look up at him from under his eyelashes. 

"Luckily you brought that canteen with you, boy, or you would of been left there for dead." Hershel tsk's, closing his medical bag and standing up to leave. "You should be fine in a few days. I'll rewrap the bandages tomorrow and give you a few painkillers. Keep the fluids going and make sure to not strain your leg muscles." he sighs, looking over the two men before smiling softly and walking out the door. 

For the first time since Daryl walked onto the field, its just him and Rick and Rick seizes his chance, and leans in to kiss him. 

Both their lips are chapped but the kiss is sweet and slow and filled of four days worth of tension and Rick is embarrassed about how close he is to crying again.

Rick pulls back just to look at Daryl, whose eyes hang with heavy bags and whose face is marked with a dozen small scratches and he thinks he's never seen anyone so beautiful. 

He cups Daryl's cheek carefully with one hand and presses soft kisses to the entirety of his face. Daryl's heartbeat pounds when Rick presses his pinky against his neck and his breath is fast, small puffs as he stares up at Rick with all the love he's always hidden inside himself.   
"For once," Rick says, voice thick, "for once since the first time I set eyes on you at camp, you weren't there next to me. And I felt as though I'd lost everything again."

It's weird for them, because they never get more emotional than saying 'I love you' or the occasion fuck that feels more like them making love, but Rick can't help it. He can't help but feel as though he finally realizes how much he loves the man under his fingers. 

Apparently, never can Daryl because he's crying again and pulling Rick down to his lips, breath hot and kisses bruising.

Rick's hand travel down Daryl's sides as he gets up from the chair and settles over Daryl, minding his left leg and straddling his hips. He wants to touch, kiss, feel, take, take, take because he always takes Daryl for granted but now all he wants to do is tell him how important he is to him. He pulls away to kiss down Daryl's jaw and neck, sucking deep red lovebites that scream, "property of Rick Grimes." 

"I thought of you," Daryl suddenly gasps, hips arching off the table, followed by a hiss of pain from his leg, "When I was down there, surrounded by dirt and the earth and even when I felt completely hopeless, I thought of you." 

Rick pulls up, lips shining and he stares down at this.. this man, this hero, this hunter that he loves so much. Daryl stares back, eyes hot and on fire.

"Then, when I thought it was the end," he whispers, hand coming up to tangle in the necklace around Rick's neck, rungs pressed against his palm, "I thought of us."

Rick is speechless, and he has so many things to say and not enough words to say them in, so instead he kisses Daryl with all the heat and stars and suns that he can muster and he hopes Daryl feels the love he's pouring into him. 

The air shifts and suddenly they're both desperate and in need of each other. Hands grip and pull at useless clothing, and Rick's cock is already hard and pressing against his jeans and he groans lowly as Daryl's hand presses against him.

"Oh, fuck," he whimpers, pushing up against the hand on his cock, teeth biting at Daryl's collar bone. His fingers rush to pop open his jeans and once they're open, they rub over Daryl's boxers. A high pitched moan escapes the hunter's mouth and Rick feels dizzy with arousal. 

He wants to go fast and slow and rough and soft all at the same time and he has to lay his forehead against Daryl's just to catch his breath.

"I've missed you, so much. Feel so goddamn alive with you," he whispers, sticking his hand down Daryl's boxers and he watches Daryl's eyes widen. He slicks his hand up with the precome forming on the tip of Daryl's cock, and jerks his hand up and down slowly, wanting to see Daryl's reaction.

And he's wild with it, thrusting his hips up and hissing at the small twitches of pain in his leg, biting his lip until it's almost bleeding and staring up at Rick with want pouring out of his eyes. "R-Rick.. pleas- oh, fuck."

He speeds his hand up just a bit, twisting his wrist and he knows he's driving Daryl crazy and he loves it. 

He keeps going Daryl is gasping and twisting on the bed, moaning about being close. Three more flicks of the wrist and Rick lets go. 

"Baby, no, go back please, I'm so close, make me come.." Daryl pleads, hands gripping at Rick's shoulders. But Rick shakes his head, hips coming down to grind against him. Daryl shuts up real quick. Rick leans forward, bending his body over Daryl's and kisses his way up to his ear. 

"Want you to fuck me." 

Daryl's breath hitches and Rick moans at the fingers gripping onto his lower back.

"Fuck, yeah."

∆∆

Two spit soaked fingers were enough to open Rick up and he's so dizzy, maybe too dizzy but the feeling of Daryl fingering him is wonderful and he can stop fucking himself down on them. 

"Okay, okay, enough, just fuck me, I'm ready, love you so much.." he rambles, nuzzling against Daryl's neck. He hears Daryl moan and the fingers slip from inside him. He groans and bites at the skin of his neck. 

He lets Daryl slick up his cock with more spit and they should really use lube but god, he needs Daryl inside of him and they have no time to go back to the tent. So, he lines Daryl's cock up with his hole and he slowly slides down onto it, hissing at the burn all the way down. But he doesn't care and he's being stretched too quickly, but it feels so fucking good. Soon, he's left a blabbering mess, hands clawing at Daryl's chest as he pounds up into him.

They should be quiet, since they are in Hershel's house but Rick can't help squeezing around Daryl's cock and hearing him almost scream. He grins and leans down to kiss him sloppily, thighs burning from bouncing up and down. 

When Daryl wraps a calloused hand around Rick's leaking member, the grin slips from his face.

"O-Oh fuck, shit, Daryl.. harder, please baby, wanna feel you for days, make up for the ones when you were gone.." he all but whimpers, slowly becoming putty under his boyfriend's hands.

Daryl complies and suddenly Rick's arching his back with the pleasure spiking through him when he finds the sweet spot inside of him. 

Daryl swears under his breath and licks his lips, speeding his hand up on Rick's cock and thrusts up as fast as he can without straining his leg. 

Rick's fingernails scrape down Daryl's chest and his whole body shakes. 

"Oh, my god, gonna come, Daryl, Daryl, Daryl, baby--" and it's like all the breath escapes Rick as he comes thick, white ropes against Daryl's red chest, which he collapses onto two seconds later.

He barely registers Daryl thrust up into him a few more times before he's coming inside him, screaming his name like a pray. 

∆∆

When Rick finally moves off him, he cuddles up to his side and decides to worry about the mess tomorrow.

Instead he focuses on Daryl's hand rubbing circles on his upper arm and the feeling of the golden rings pressed against his chest. 

And he falls asleep listening to Daryl say 'I love you', over and over again, and thinks about how he could never go a minute without loving Daryl Dixon.

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr; avidang!


End file.
